bedtime stories
by burusume
Summary: Vlad and Michelle spend a night together under a blanket fort.


_wanted to write something for these two but i've been stuck with 0 ideas lately. the fact that i couldn't look for prompts on tumblr didn't help. in the end, i used this simple (fluffy? but sad towards the end) idea; i hope you'll enjoy it._

"You bought the snacks?"

"The paprika-flavoured chips and spider jellies."

"Good. The drinks?"

"Raspberry cordial. For all of your blood-drinking needs," Michelle snickered. Vlad exhaled deeply, yet in an amused undertone, taking his time fixing the knitted blanket that sat atop their heads. There was nothing quite like building and spending a night in a blanket fort to finish their exhausting week.

"I have something to tell you."

"Hmm?"

"Your granny neighbours _**must**_ be part of some secret police. They're on the benches outside the block when i leave, right beside me in the supermarket and back again in the elevator when i come back."

"I see, so you're already familiar with our lovely _'babele de pe scară'_."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning _'the grannies of the staircase'_ , approximately."

"Sounds more like the name of a movie, a horror one."

"Why not an action one? I mean, just imagine a group of granny spies, " Vlad hushed some _pew pew_ sounds while pretending he has a gun in his hands, making Michelle snicker under her breath. Nevertheless, the Creole went on with her questionnaire:

"How've your _'kids'_ been?" she asked, leaning her back on the soft (and huge) lion-shaped pillow.

"I'm guessing that by _'kids'_ you mean _'much emancipated adults'_ , dear," Vlad replied, leaning on the same pillow "They're spacing off. Not like they were so much interested in physics in the first place, though."

"Let them be, grouch. What grade are they in?"

"8th."

"Um...age?"

"Around 15."

Opening the first bag of chips for the night, Vlad concluded on a sarcastic note:

"Ah, middleschool years. But nevermind that, let us start our (here he put the flashlight to his face, grinning) _**night of absolute horror**_!

"Don't you think the name is a bit too unnecessary flashy?"

"Don't you think you're already way too frightened?"

Michelle scoffed at that, took another bag in her hands and fixed her big eyes on his half bright, half dark face.

"As if. You aren't even holding that thing right, it makes you look like an awful clay-made doll."

"Oh, even better then. I got you in the mood."

"Yeah, sure," Michelle took a sip from one of the opened bottles, "Tonight's your turn on storytelling, so fire it up."

The Romanian cleared his throat, sitting up:

"Back in 1912, when Bucharest began to be cluttered up with all those ' _fancy buildings that are on the big boulevards_ ', as you so-nicknamed them (Michelle chuckled), an imposing hotel arose among them: its name was Palace Hotel, changed later on to Hotel Cişmigiu. It had a tumultuous past, but that's not what i'm going to talk about now. Right after the fall of communism, the hotel will turn into a hostel for the students of the Theater College, because its standards fell so much it would've been a joke to call it a _'hotel'_ anymore. Nevertheless, Hotel Cişmigiu will be closed permanently in 1995."

"But in the meanwhile a creepy ghost will haunt its hallways, right?"

"Hush, you! But yeah, you're right: during a weekend, while most of the students were out, a Moldavian student fell into the elevator shaft. She survived though; but she slowly died within the 3 hours that passed screaming for help."

Michelle hugged her pillow tighter, "How dreadful."

"I know," Vlad sighed, "It's a story about overstraining and ignorance."

"But..how's the hotel today?"

"Today? Renovated, beautiful, the whole works."

"But its legend's still lingering on...," Michelle's head shot up suddenly, "Wait, did i see this building while we were sightseeing?"

"You did."

"I wanna see it again. When you'll have the time."

"Hm, sure. It's been a while we stopped by a café too, don't you think?"

The Creole laughed softly, "You're such a fascinating combination between romanticism and pure creepiness."

 _Ro's story is actually true, the band Vama Veche did a cover of the song "Hotel California" based on it and how the students lived in the miserable "Hotel Cişmigiu". You can watch it here watch?v=1Gkcbzt-yp4, along with an English translation of the lyrics_ _/en/hotel-ci%C8%99migiu-ci%C8%_ _(contains some swearing)._


End file.
